


Dancing Around After the Date

by TheLastDruid



Series: The Last Druid [8]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bondage, Fisting, Intersex, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27979293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastDruid/pseuds/TheLastDruid
Summary: Aleks and Maleko have been putting off their first date for way too long.
Relationships: Aleks/Maleko, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Last Druid [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578373
Kudos: 6





	Dancing Around After the Date

Aleks isn’t necessarily the type of person to sleep with someone after one date. He’s  _ pretty _ sure he isn’t. He doesn’t actually have a lot of dating experience to fall back on. Things just...fell into place, with Eadric and Hinete. And before that... There weren’t ‘dates’, before that. Before  _ them _ .

The thing is, it took so long for him to actually have his first date with Maleko that it doesn’t feel rushed, going home with him. It feels like they’ve been dancing around it for ages. They know each other well in a work setting, and they’ve seen plenty of each other in situations that were, lightly put, less than ideal. They started off with a level of intimate familiarity some couples don’t reach for months.

Maleko lives in a minimalist one bedroom apartment, Aleks learns. It’s a far cry nicer than his own, though, certainly not lacking for space. His kitchen is gleaming granite, his wall-mounted television is enormous, and his couch looks as comfortable as Aleks’ bed. Maybe more so. His walls are mostly bare except for a triptych on the hallway wall. They feature three figures styled like stained glass.

Maleko slips off his shoes by the front door. “Make yourself at home,” he says with an easy smile. “There isn’t a lot to it, if you want a tour.”

Aleks does not, actually, want a tour. He wants to kiss Maleko. He’s kind of wanted to kiss Maleko the entire date, but he is also so, so incredibly nervous. Nervous in a way he can’t remember being for years. With Eadric and Hinete, things were--there was understanding, there, bred through shared trauma, a shared knowledge of what it’s like having something to keep hidden. Trust, after common ground like that, towards physical intimacy--that was almost natural. This is… different. And amazing, no less amazing. Just also… nerve-wracking.

He toes off his shoes as well--finally replaced, once Neil started taking him on four am rooftop runs. Toys a little with a strand of hair that’s escaped his braid, biting his lip. He’s wearing both barrettes, in his hair, and maybe it was silly but he twined a pair of the elastics Maleko gave him together before using them to hold the end of the braid. Maybe Maleko noticed. Maleko notices things. He knew that Aleks liked green.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks--kind of blurts out, actually.

Maleko’s grin broadens. He’s wearing a tie — Aleks could pull him closer by it, lead him to the bedroom like it’s a leash. Absently, Maleko loosens it.

“Absolutely.”

It’s a bit of a struggle not to reach for the tie, now that the idea has crossed his mind. Nerves are what stop Aleks. He’s taller, by a fair margin, though Maleko is broader by about the same--it means Maleko has to tilt his head up, that Aleks has to lean down just slightly as he brings their lips together. Without really thinking about it, he lets his hand come up to cup Maleko’s cheek, thumb stroking over the glittering collection of scales at his cheekbone. Maleko’s lips are soft, warm; Aleks parts his own against the lower and exhales slowly, a little shakily.

One hand comes to rest on Aleks’ hip, the other grazing his arm. Maleko kisses back without reservation, calm and confident as always. He coaxes Aleks to deepen it rather than do it himself, giving him the opportunity to decide what pace they’re moving at.

But he also plays dirty, because he murmurs against Aleks’ lips, “It’s okay. I want you, too.”

_ That _ makes Aleks suck in a breath. And maybe--maybe he’s still learning confidence. Maybe he’s still learning how he fits in his own skin, how he fits into the world and together with other people, but there  _ is _ one thing he’s always been, and that is:  _ Stubborn _ . And it’s this part of him that drives Aleks forward, that hears reassurance but also a tiny spark of  _ competition _ , and so he  _ does _ bring his free hand up to loop in Maleko’s tie, index finger curled around the back of the knot. He slides his other hand into Maleko’s hair--short, new, he wants to run his fingers through it forever--and deepens the kiss into something hungry and purposeful, using his grip on Maleko’s tie to keep him close, right where Aleks wants him.

Maleko’s grip tightens, pleased with the new spark behind their kiss. He parts his lips and flicks his tongue over Aleks’, sucking gently when he explores Maleko’s mouth. With the ice broken, Maleko’s intentions aren’t secret; he presses close, one leg nudging Aleks’ until he can work himself between them. Aleks has his thigh pressed against Maleko and he can feel his interest, firm and warm. It’s easy, almost, to press up against him then; to grind as he lets the hand in Maleko’s hair wander down to the small of his back. Aleks is pleasantly surprised when Maleko gives easily to the pressure of his palm there, follows his lead and lets Aleks guide the motion of his hips.

Pleased, Aleks draws back from the kiss, just to work his way back over and then under Maleko’s jaw. He sucks at the soft skin there, firm but not hard enough to leave a mark. Maleko is wonderfully responsive, keening softly and toying with the end of Aleks’ braid. He encourages Aleks with little twirls of his fingers and long, heavy breaths. Aleks wants to back him up against a wall, get better leverage to grind Maleko against his thigh and something to brace him against so he can work his way over Maleko’s neck with his mouth--realizes they’re still in the entryway and says ‘fuck it’ to the half-formed thoughts of going looking for the bedroom, pivoting them both until Maleko’s shoulders hit the wall, careful.

Better positioned, Aleks slides his hands over Maleko’s chest; undoes the first few buttons on his shirt so he can lick and nibble across Maleko’s collar bones, lave his tongue into the hollow at the base of Maleko’s throat.

“Mm... You have a fantastic mouth,” Maleko hums. His hands roam and massage Aleks’ arms, holding him close with the eagerness of someone willing to lose their clothing. The layers in the way are evidently unwelcome.

“Do you want — Bedroom?”

Aleks drags his teeth carefully over Maleko's pulse before answering, just because it's there and tempting. "Yeah. We c'n-- Yeah. Could blow you? Eat you out? What do you want?" His hands squeeze Maleko's hips, massaging, almost unaware that he's doing it.

“Gods,” Maleko sighs, intrigued, and brings him down into a brief, hungry kiss. “Let’s get there first. Give me a moment to process, I’ll decide...”

The bedroom is down the hall, but Aleks barely pays attention to Maleko’s interior design choices once they get there. The only important feature is  _ bed _ . He pulls Maleko towards it, thoughtless, hands roaming and exploring as he steals kiss after kiss from Maleko's mouth, but then--

A slightly too interested tug on the tie knot unravels it, the length of fabric sliding almost free of itself, and that's when Aleks remembers: Generally, people take their clothes off during sex.

And Maleko's… seen, some of it. And it--he was good about it. Didn't say anything. Still showed interest, that much is obvious. But that was before everything came out in Hamlin's office, and he'd taken Maleko aside to give him a quiet, awkward update, keep him in the loop. That was before… And Maleko's seafolk. Aleks is sickeningly unsure again, suddenly, because it wouldn't be that hard for Maleko to put two and two together and realise Aleks has had a partner whose idea of decoration was more permanent than jewelry or pretty hair ties, and what if Maleko doesn't  _ like _ that?

He pauses, panting softly against Maleko's mouth, hand on Maleko's hip suddenly still. "I could-- I can keep my clothes on," he offers.

Confusion flickers across Maleko’s face, but he shrugs and runs his hands gently over Aleks’ shoulders.

“If you’re more comfortable with them on, then I don’t mind,” he says. “But, if you’re worried that I won’t like what I see... Believe me, that isn’t going to be a problem.”

Aleks smiles a bit. Fuck, that's--sweet, and hot, and flattering, and-- He's still nervous, but…

"No, it's okay, I can-- I don't mind, if you're sure." He finds confidence by forcing his mind to switch directions, a tool he's come to realise can be used positively: Stop thinking about himself, and start thinking about someone else. Specifically, in this case, start thinking about  _ Maleko _ , and the curious intrigue he hears in Maleko's voice whenever he takes the initiative. Aleks tugs firmly at the tie until it comes fully undone, and then is overwhelmed by the thought of binding Maleko's wrists above his head, with it. Shit. This is going to be a problem; Maleko wears ties to work  _ all the time _ and now it's going to be a  _ thing _ .

Oblivious to the direction Aleks’ mind has gone, Maleko starts undoing the buttons of his shirt. His chest has a fascinating amount of definition, abdominal muscles faintly visible, pectorals prominent. He lets the shirt fall before giving Aleks’ a questioning tug. Aleks lets his sweater drop, pulls his own shirt over his head, and before he can let himself think about the skin he's showing, he takes a knee; leans in and kisses across Maleko's chest to take his nipple in his mouth and suck, tongue teasing; lets his hands come up to trace his fingertips over the muscles of Maleko's stomach.

Maleko strokes his hair, inadvertently unwinding his braid with gentle fingers. He exhales, and he’s looking at Aleks with open intrigue, unashamed of his lust and not hesitating to show it. He kneads the back of Aleks’ neck and mutters, “I’m open to... everything, really, I’d love to know what you like... I want to see what you look like when you’re turned on out of your mind.”

It's a war between the desire to melt utterly into the hand on his neck, and the surge of arousal that comes with Maleko's words-- _ fuck _ , it's hot when people just say what they want. Aleks brings a hand up to palm Maleko through his pants, squeezing firmly, exploring; reminds himself determinedly that Hinete and Eadric  _ like _ it when he says what he's thinking, that it's ended only  _ really fucking well _ for him lately to express that, so he takes a steadying breath and says, "I like-- I like making my partners react, love it when people talk to me. Love when I can make them stop thinking and let go. I like being in control? Like giving head. Like knowing I'm wanted." And he nuzzles against the hot bulge of Maleko's cock through his pants and admits, "Kind of want to tie you up."

Maleko shivers, closing his eyes with a soft hum. He shifts his weight in lieu of pressing his clothed cock against Aleks, but only to unzip his pants in offering.

“Tie me down, finger me while you blow me?”

He asks. Doesn’t demand; Maleko requests it with no uncertainty. He knows what he wants, now.

“I’d love for you to fuck me, too.”

"I'd like that," Aleks breathes, careful but not unsure as he works Maleko's pants down his hips. He drags his tongue over the prominent crease between Maleko's hip and groin, teasing carefully with his teeth at the end of it, because fuck, how could he not? Maleko's so attractive it almost hurts. "Or I could ride you. 'M not picky."

“Gods, you’d look so gorgeous on my cock,” Maleko breathes. “We have the time, we could do both.”

Maleko’s cock stands tall, begging for touch all on its own. He isn’t particularly long, but he’s thick and hard. Positioned lower is a wet slit and inviting folds. Aleks' mouth waters, and he's briefly unsure what he wants to get his tongue on first--without thinking he drags his hands up Maleko's thighs, easing them wide enough that he can lean in and get a mouthful of slick. He might groan. He doesn't care.

“Mn — Your  _ mouth _ ,” Maleko praises again. His fingertips dig into Aleks' scalp a little. “Still want to tie me up? Then you can do whatever you want.”

Aleks swallows, thickly. Drawing back takes effort, thoroughly distracted by  _ want _ , but he kind of wants to see--no, he  _ really desperately _ wants to see if he can make Maleko writhe. Wants to figure out if Maleko can have multiples, if Maleko will soak his wrist and fingers when he comes, and he  _ could _ just ask but where's the fun in that? He snatches up the tie from where it's lying in a little heap on the floor, and grins up at Maleko mischievously. "Yeah. Lie down? C'n I tie you to the headboard?" He doesn't wait for an answer before rising, shucking his pants but leaving his boxers in place for the moment.

Willingly, Maleko sinks back onto the bed and lifts his arms above his head, giving Aleks a grin. He’s open in his expressions, so honest; Maleko doesn’t leave room for doubt as his eyes flicker over Aleks’ body. Any hesitation Aleks expected from seeing so much of his scarring just doesn’t happen, though Maleko must know what it means. There’s that dawning look, like it’s clicked, but it doesn’t appear to put him off. He just wets his lips, swallows, and murmurs, “This good?”

" _ So _ good," Aleks tells him, hoping it's earnest enough that it doesn't come off as patronising. Carefully but without hesitation, he uses the tie to bind Maleko's wrists; checks his circulation the way he's seen Hinete do to Eadric. Double checks, just to be safe, though Maleko has been open and frank with him until now: "You'll tell me if you want me to stop? Or do something else?"

“I will,” he confirms. Like he’s testing the tie’s strength, Maleko gives a little tug to either side. “Can’t imagine it, though — The way you want this is beautiful.”

Aleks flushes. He sets his glasses on the nightstand and mutters, embarrassed but earnest, " _ You're _ beautiful," and kisses any reply out of Maleko's mouth, settling over him carefully. He brings the hand he isn't bracing on up one of Maleko's thighs, coaxing his legs open a little tentatively, but Maleko goes willingly. Aleks traces the wet slit between his thighs with just his fingertips, so very gently; carefully scrapes his teeth over Maleko's tongue before breaking the kiss to ask, "Can I still finger you? You said you're open to anything, but what do you  _ like _ ?"

Maleko makes a soft sound, like he regrets having to speak if it means losing Aleks’ mouth against his. He answers though, low and honest.

“I like having my partners inside me — I want your fingers, your cock, anything is good. I want you to finger me when you go down on me, I love that.”

Aleks sighs, shuddering all over just ever so slightly. He traces his fingers over Maleko’s entrance, gathering wetness; works one and then two into him and curls them carefully just so, enraptured.

“Me too,” he admits, on an exhale. “Wanna see how many times you can come on my fingers. Wanna keep going til you need me to stop.” Even as he says this, he takes his time kissing down Maleko’s throat, over his chest. Detours to take a nipple in his mouth and worry it between his teeth, tongue flicking, as he fits his knee up against the back of his own hand and uses it to increase the force of his fingers grinding into Maleko.

Maleko melts, rolling his shoulders to relax into his restraints. One of his legs comes up slightly to part wider. He’s flexible, more so than one would expect from someone with his muscle, and eager to accept Aleks’ fingers. He’s so wet, inner walls fluttering as he coaxes Aleks in deep. Aleks might moan, soft enough to barely be heard, as he shifts down fully and settles in between Maleko’s legs, shoulders between his thighs. Briefly, he entertains the thought of those thighs wrapped around his head, holding him in place, strong muscle quaking and-- _ fuck _ . Maybe he can make that happen. Aleks desperately hopes so.

Without any more preamble, no more than a cursory lick up the shaft, he ducks down to get Maleko’s cock in his mouth. An eager moan escapes with Maleko’s next breath, followed by quiet encouragement — “Just like this, this is how I want it... Gods, Aleks...”

Aleks can’t reply, wouldn’t know what to say even if he could, but he’s not planning on moving his mouth for  _ anything _ so it’s not like it matters. He works his fingers, quick and practiced and easy, stretching once in a while but focussing on keeping them curled against the textured ridges centred at the front of Maleko’s inner walls. He sucks, slow and deep, cheeks hollowing and tongue rubbing up against Maleko’s hot length, letting himself get accustomed to the width of Maleko’s cock and the stretch in his jaw. He’s thicker than Aleks is used to, pleasantly so, but it means Aleks is careful and slow as he works his way down until he can get the head in his throat and swallow around it.

It doesn’t seem difficult to work Maleko over, and he’s so willing to let Aleks know what’s working for him. He murmurs constant encouragement — “You can suck a little harder around the head, like —  _ ngh _ , yes, like that,” and “Right in that spot, that’s so good,  _ Aleks _ ,” — and hooks his leg around Aleks’ shoulders, needing to do something since his hands are bound. Aleks leans into it eagerly, loving the praise; works another finger into Maleko’s wet heat when the hungry clenching around them makes getting enough pressure using only two difficult. He rubs and beckons, movements forceful and edging just shy of rough, and he hums low and encouraging around Maleko’s cock as he brings his unoccupied hand up to knead at Maleko’s balls, gently; to thumb at the apex of the slick folds behind them, searching for nerves that might or might not be there.

The extra push of stimulation is enough to make Maleko’s cock leak and his voice catch. He comes quivering, flooding Aleks’ mouth with bitter-salt. All the while, he murmurs praise, telling Aleks how sweet his mouth is, how good he feels, how beautiful he looks right now.

“Sorry,” Maleko murmurs, breathless and dazed with pleasure. “Meant to warn you... before I...”

Aleks  _ groans _ . He draws off, tonguing at the tip of Maleko’s cock in quick flicks, cleaning him. It’s an effort to still his fingers but he does.

“Don’t be  _ sorry _ ,  _ fuck _ ,” he pants, looking up at Maleko with eyes wide, licking come from the corner of his mouth almost distractedly. “Can I make you come again?”

“Yes,” Maleko groans, head tilting back against the pillow. “Absolutely, yes. As many times as you want.”

The noise that pulls out of Aleks can only be described as  _ desperate _ . “Fuck.  _ Fuck _ , okay, I want-- How can I. How can I do that, are you too sensitive for me to keep blowing you, what can I--”

“Refractory period is good, you can do it again soon if you want,” Maleko pants softly. “I’m sensitive but, not so much that you can’t...”

His leg is still around Aleks’ shoulder, keeping him close without much thought. Aleks kisses at his inner thigh, sloppy and distracted with lust, more of a smearing of lips across skin and scales than anything else; spreads and curls the fingers he has inside Maleko and leans down to get his mouth on the folds behind Maleko’s balls. His moan is muffled against the glistening skin there, as he busies himself with lapping and sucking with more eagerness than finesse: He’s too turned on to really care about showing off any prowess or skill, and Maleko doesn’t seem like he’s complaining.

Maleko’s leg squeezes at him a little, thoughtless and encouraging. The waves of pleasure rolling over him are slow and heavy, building him back up at a pace he’s obviously content with.

“Gods...” Maleko closes his eyes. “Such a hot tongue...”

Aleks works his tongue in alongside his fingers, tasting. He isn’t quite sure when he wrapped his other arm around Maleko’s thigh, grip tight and designed to keep Maleko pressed against his face, but he tightens his hold when he realizes it’s there. He has a new goal, driven by that tiny spark of competitive spirit, because Maleko said  _ as many times as you want _ \--he wants to hear what Maleko is like when he loses his words, when he’s reduced to mindless sounds and shouting and shivering, twitching with pleasure. It seems like a challenge, but the  _ best _ sort--the kind he sets for  _ himself _ , the kind he thinks he can  _ win _ . With that in mind, he redoubles his efforts, mouth and fingers working with more purpose, a quicker pace.

Wonderfully, Maleko doesn’t seem to have realized what he’s gotten into, not yet. He just stutters over a moan and murmurs, “Gods, that’s amazing,” as he brings his other leg in close around Aleks. His muscles are taut and twitchy, reacting to every surge of pleasure when the waves peak. He isn’t even hard again yet but he feels like he could be close again, and he tells Aleks as much. Aleks doesn’t grin, because his mouth is gloriously occupied, but he feels it in his chest, the same surge of pride and determination and surety. His fingers dig into Maleko’s thigh and he pushes his tongue as deep as he possibly can, even with his jaw starting to ache a bit with the strain. Aleks doesn’t give a shit. Maleko tastes like  _ victory _ .

His second orgasm makes Maleko moan like he’s being paid for it, buzzing with sensation. His spent cock twitches and spits white ropes into Aleks’ hair, the muscles inside clamping down like he wants Aleks to never leave. Aleks doesn't stop, this time, after he's done wringing it out of him: He listens, he watches, every sense alert to a word or sign of protest, since Maleko can't push him away, but when Maleko's mostly done pulsing around his fingers and tongue all he does is swap hands, because his left is cramping. He slides his open mouth up over Maleko's balls and licks over his cock, soft and gentle but thorough, testing the waters, seeing if he can take Maleko in his mouth again. Fuck, he wants to.

Maleko’s voice trembles a little over Aleks’ name, and it’s definitely not an attempt to deter him, not if the way he consciously repositions his legs means anything. He hooks his ankles and draws him in, hardening in Aleks’ mouth easily. Aleks sighs through his nose, pleased; works Maleko back into his throat and just stays there with his nose brushing low on Maleko's stomach, swallowing over and over, throat clicking. It's a slight reprieve, not having to move his head much without compromising the amount of sensation. His hand starts moving, proper thrusting instead of just come-hither beckoning, fingers curled and focussed on the place Maleko told him was best.

“Nngh — you’re incredible, do you know that? I’m-...” Maleko sighs shakily. “Don’t think I’ve ever felt this hot, before... I still want you to fuck me, gods, but I could do this forever... You’re being so good to me...”

Aleks draws off with a pop, sucks in a gasp of air while he figures out what he wants to reply to. If he wants to reply. His voice is rough and low, awed at the easy give of Maleko's walls under his fingers when he says, "I meant it when I said I want to do this til you tell me to stop. D'y'know the most you've ever come before? Have you ever kept count?"

“Never... I think, ah, most of my partners quit after two?” Maleko laughs breathlessly.

"Boring," Aleks quips, grinning back, but he means it. How could anyone ever want to stop  _ this _ before they absolutely had to? His jaw does ache a bit, though, and he can't swap out like he did with his hands, so he asks, curious, "You have toys? Want me to use 'em?"

“In a box under my bed,” Maleko laughs. His head sinks against his pillow again with a blissful sigh. “I have... a good amount. I like experimenting... Not a lot of opportunities.”

He isn’t kidding. Aleks finds a long, flat plastic box under the bed with a myriad of toys: clamps, vibrators, plugs, double-ended dildos. He has a vinyl paddle, a velvety flogger, a few candles made from soft wax.

"Any favourites?" Aleks asks, a little grateful he was already flushed with interest because- _ -Wow _ . That's... a lot. To his relief, he doesn't find any knives; he grabs a bullet vibe on a wire, then hesitates over but eventually selects a classic wand vibe, looking around for an outlet near the bed to plug the cord into. Those things are  _ powerful _ , so Aleks is… hesitant, but the thought of Maleko with the round, wide head of it pressed to the underside of his limp cock, writhing, shouting Aleks' name as he comes-- _ fuck _ . Aleks takes a deep breath; reminds himself Maleko can say no.

There’s certainly no protest yet. Maleko’s pupils are dilated wide, more than happy to put himself at Aleks’ mercy with the wand. He tilts his head and says, “Outlet is right there,” as though his implicit approval needed voicing. Aleks plugs it in, grabs lube and a clear blue toy with what he  _ thinks _ might be a rotating section near the base of the usable length, bumpy and textured, and tosses both on the bed beside Maleko and his other selections before replacing the box's lid and nudging it back under the bed with his foot. He settles back over Maleko, between legs that part willingly for him; leans down and kisses Maleko slow and deep and easy, not gentle exactly but with care.

"How are your hands?" he murmurs. He brings his own mostly-dry hand up to stroke through Maleko's hair, hesitates over the  _ mostly _ , and then remembers Maleko definitely got come in  _ his _ hair and says fuck it.

“Not tingling any more than the rest of me,” Maleko grins against his lips, and hums. “You taste like me.”

"'S the idea, yeah," Aleks breathes, hitching one of Maleko's legs up again so he can go back to exploring the soft, hidden place behind Maleko's balls with gentle fingertips, searching for a clit or under-developed equivalent. He'd gotten distracted, last time, delightfully so. He bites gently at Maleko's lower lip and asks, "Sensitive here, or not really?"

“Not overly, but it still feels good,” Maleko breathes. “Pretty sensitive everywhere, really... Especially after I come once, makes everything just — so good... You haven’t told me, yet, is this what you like? Tying me down, having your way with me?”

He probably does want an answer, but he’s kissing Aleks then like he needs him more than air. Aleks gets caught up in it, fingers slotting back up inside Maleko like they belong there. He swallows down the noise that draws forth and catches Maleko's lip between his teeth again, sucking gently, nearly diverted from conversation. He does remember, though, eventually, when he draws back to breathe.

"Yeah," he admits, words a bit of a confession in the humid air between them, "This is what I like. Want to make you come so hard you stop thinking. Maybe make you beg, a little. Don't have to, though." He doesn't feel as guilty as he normally does, thinking about it. Aleks breaks away to kiss down the column of Maleko's neck, headed eagerly southwards, planning on getting his head back between Maleko's legs and not moving for the rest of the night.

There’s no judgement in Maleko’s laugh, only amazement and interest. He arches into Aleks’ mouth, lustful, and welcomes Aleks’ return to his cock with a breathy groan.

“What if I’m too proud to beg?” Maleko challenges. “Think you can make me?”

Bold words, Aleks thinks privately, from someone whose partners have always quit after the second orgasm. But he doesn’t push; wouldn’t want to, anyways, no matter how tantalizing the idea of Maleko begging to be fucked might be every time it floats across his mind. He kisses at the seam of Maleko’s thigh and pelvis, soft and sweet; looks up at Maleko through his eyelashes.

“I dunno,” he says, honestly, “But I’d sure like to try.”

Maleko hitches his legs apart wider with a warm hum. “I want you to succeed,” he admits. “You’re already doing so damn good. Feel bad that you haven’t come yet...”

Aleks shakes his head, flexing his fingers slowly. “Don’t? I don’t want to come yet. I like this better? I mean it’s--like it’s nice, coming, don’t get me wrong, but…” He flushes a little, embarrassed and unsure why; leans in to wrap his lips around the head of Maleko’s cock, teeth kept back carefully, and suck  _ hard _ . Anything Maleko might have wanted to say becomes a heady jumble. His hips jolt and he tugs reflexively at the tie, but not hard enough to really try to escape. Aleks swallows the promising tang of pre-come as Maleko’s cock twitches, hard with arousal once again, leaking from his slit in anticipation. It’s exactly the reaction Aleks was hoping for: Why be talking when he could be doing  _ this _ ?

Done with slow and easy, if Maleko’s on-board with Aleks’ favourite challenge, Aleks sets a fast, rough pace with his fingers, curled and pounding into the best place. His tongue dips into Maleko’s slit and rubs, teasing the nerves there in the tiniest motions. He almost laments the time taken to grab the toys, to talk, because he wants to keep pushing Maleko  _ higher _ , but he supposes the promise of the wand vibe makes up for any lull in the action. And Maleko still seems sensitive, still seems  _ reactive _ , which is  _ perfect _ : every lick into him makes Maleko twitch and shiver. His thighs are covered in slick, and they squeeze gently against Aleks — He doesn’t seem to be doing it consciously and doesn’t have much strength. Pleasure’s weakened him, all that muscle rendered completely useless under the power of Aleks’ tongue. That  _ never  _ stops being hot.

Aleks twists his fingers, bobs his head, teases his tongue at Maleko’s frenulum and brings his free hand up again to cup Maleko’s balls. He squeezes carefully, conscious of thin, sensitive skin under his fingers. Maleko’s hips lift off the bed, just a little. He’s gone a little tense and Aleks can see his next orgasm coming, experiences it again from the apex of his thighs: Maleko trembles, almost shouts when he moans, coils his fingers around the silky tie preventing him from grabbing at Aleks. Aleks swallows down what fluid lands on his tongue, whole body thrumming with satisfaction. Aftershocks leave Maleko clenching down around his fingers and he works with them despite the lack of rhythm, keeping up the pressure when the muscles go lax.

What he  _ wants _ is to reach for the wand, to see if he can catapult Maleko from attractive surety straight into orgasm number four, because he  _ has _ to be sensitive, now, but… Well. Weighing his options, Aleks supposes he can have mercy, since the wand will still be overwhelming even after other toys have died down to something comfortable and understandable. He reaches for the bullet vibe, instead, though he bumps it up to a mid-level setting because he thinks that will be more fun than low; murmurs, “Tell me if it’s too much,” as he presses the width of it firmly to the base of Maleko’s cock.

“O-oh gods,” Maleko keens, and he takes it well, the sparks of ecstasy aggressively stirring his cock back to hardness already. He swallows hard and murmurs Aleks’ name with the same hoarse admiration that he called to the gods with.

“It’s good, it’s so good...”

“You sound amazing, like this,” Aleks tells him, quiet but full of genuine affection, “Mother of  _ gods _ you’re hot.” He adjusts the vibrator settings after a moment; wavers between tucking it up inside Maleko and holding it in place with his fingers, and running it up to press against the underside of his tip. He ends up deciding on the latter, partially because he’s worried about the stretch and partially because watching Maleko’s cock twitch makes his mouth water. He nuzzles at Maleko’s thigh, cleaning away the wetness there with his tongue, and asks, “You want another finger? Or the toy? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Either — You won’t hurt me, I know you won’t,” Maleko hums. “I can take it. I’ll tell you if I can’t, but fuck, I want it.”

Aleks hesitates. There’s a tease on the tip of his tongue, a coy, ‘ _ You want what? _ ’ that he doesn’t really think Maleko will fall for, but he’s a little too occupied, thinking over his options, to really put voice to it. On the one hand, four fingers would  _ have _ to be a stretch; he can’t imagine there not being some pain involved there. The blue toy is perfectly average-sized and presumably Maleko’s used it before, or he would have--Aleks thinks; hopes--protested when Aleks grabbed it. On the other hand…

On the other hand, fuck, that--that would be really hot, getting most--maybe even all?--of his  _ hand _ inside Maleko’s body, getting to feel him bear down when he comes, getting to be the cause of that the way he wouldn’t be with the toy. Aleks  _ wants _ that, more than he thought he would, if he’d ever let himself think about it; just the thought, the mental image, makes him want to grind against the mattress a bit. And Maleko said  _ he  _ wants it, too.

"You're sure?" Aleks asks, voice husky enough with arousal at the idea that he sounds less uncertain than he feels. He holds the bullet vibe against the weeping slit of Maleko's cock and laps at him with a careful tongue between words: "You want my hand?"

It’s not just the vibe, not just his mouth — Maleko is weak for the way Aleks’ voice rolls over his words, and it feels almost unfair as a result. Maleko needs to say yes, needs to do whatever it takes to keep Aleks talking to him like that. He shudders, almost whimpers, and says, “Oh fuck yes.”

Aleks groans, softly, flushed and so turned on that thinking is a monumental effort, but the promise of Maleko mindless under him is a tantalizing reality just barely out of reach, and to get there  _ one _ of them needs to be thinking straight. Not that Aleks would have it any other way, and so it's willingly that he sorts his thoughts into some semblance of logical order as he draws his fingers back, slow and careful.

"I want that," he tells Maleko, voice rough like sandpaper, "so  _ fucking _ much. Come for me again first." It isn't a question. Aleks tugs Maleko's legs up over his shoulders, buries his face between Maleko's thighs and slides his tongue into the wet, clenching cavern his fingers just vacated, moaning at the taste, the feel. He fucks Maleko on his tongue, hungry and greedy for it, because he hasn't gotten to do that yet and he's pretty sure that once he gets his hand up inside Maleko, he isn't going to ever want to draw back.

It isn’t an option  _ not  _ to come, when Aleks starts fucking him with his mouth; Maleko trembles constantly, holding onto the tie for dear sanity as he forgets how to think. His eyes close and his lips part, breathing ragged. Warmth floods them both when he comes again, soaking Aleks’ chin and crying out with a thoroughly spent voice. He sounds ruined in the best way.

And still, he asks for it. Breaks, and begs, “Gods, fuck me any way you want, please...”

Aleks pulls away, regret only barely eclipsed by eager curiosity as he licks his lips, as he nuzzles at Maleko's thigh gently. He grabs the lube and slicks his hand probably entirely too thoroughly, considering that his fingers are already completely drenched, but pain and unwelcome friction aren't chances he's willing to take. Not  _ ever _ , but especially not now, when Maleko's  _ trusting _ him like this, enough to let go so entirely; to put himself at Aleks' mercy in so many ways at once that it's heady.

"You're incredible," Aleks tells him, voice thrumming with honesty and arousal, "You're fucking perfect, you're so beautiful, you're doing so fucking well. I need you to tell me if I'm hurting you, okay? That's all you need to think about right now." And so carefully, so slowly but firmly, with that, he starts to work all four fingers of his right hand inside.

Maleko chokes on a cry. It’s glorious, completely unbidden and unrestrained. He’s quivering inside, clamping down to beckon Aleks in, and he’s so hot and wet and willing —

His cock is hard again, arousal springing back in full force. Already, moisture beads at the tip.

“Feels — so full, fuck, it’s so good, I can’t...  _ Gods _ , Aleks-...”

Aleks hums, gentle and encouraging. He curls his fingers so slow and careful and holds them there as he starts to rock his hand; as he clicks the bullet vibe up to its highest setting and presses it to the wetness gathering in the slit of Maleko's cock.

"I think you can," he coaxes. "I think you can come like this. For me. Can't you?"

“I can — I’m gonna — It’s so f-f-...”

Maleko’s words disintegrate. He doesn’t need much more, but Aleks gives it to him all the same. He’s almost sobbing, and he’s helpless to his own writhing, pleading because he’s  _ so full, so close, Aleks yes, yes — _

"That's it, I've got you," Aleks tells him, the words coming from someplace instinctive, full of pride and awe and triumph and deeply satisfied need. He rubs the vibe in the tiniest little movements and works his fingers slow and deep; leans into Maleko's legs around him, skin on skin and the promise there that Maleko isn't alone. "I'm here, you're so fucking beautiful, you feel so fucking good, this is exactly what I wanted. Let go for me."

Every bit of contact is greedily appreciated. Maleko drinks it in, uses it to give himself that last little push. He quakes and gasps, jolted by the crash of nirvana on oversensitive nerves. The feeling of his body clenching down like a vice, the visual of his cock somehow still managing to spit weak ropes of white onto his trembling stomach, it's everything and more than Aleks could have possibly imagined, and he tells Maleko so. Partially because he's getting the hint that Maleko likes his voice, and partially because he just can't stop himself from talking. His brain cells are being put to more important uses than stopping himself from running his mouth.

"Fuck, that's hot," he says, the words leaving him in a heavy gust of breath. He leans down to lick at where Maleko is stretched and red around his hand before continuing, "How are you feeling? You had enough?"

Maleko almost laughs. It’s more like another moan.

“‘M kinda tempted... To say no... Just to see what you’ll do... But I think I’d pass out...”

He tugs weakly at the tie, mindless.

“All I wanna do now... See you come.”

Aleks hums, a pleased sound. He turns off the bullet vibe and tosses it aside; draws his hand back slowly and gently and wipes it on the ruined sheets after a second's hesitation, figuring they're already a lost cause. It'll wash out. Then he shifts position to undo the knot in the tie binding Maleko's hands. 

He's careful and thorough as he inspects each one, but neither hand seems pale and bloodless nor swollen and red, and the marks at Maleko's wrists are very faint, more fabric creases than anything else. Depending on how easily Maleko marks up, there might be a bruise there in a few hours' time, but nothing that a lot of mindless tugging wouldn't naturally cause.

Aleks kisses Maleko's palms, anyways, handling both with care. Then he settles on his side against Maleko and, instincts finally satisfied that all is well, that Maleko is cared for, tugs his boxers off and leans in for a kiss.

"Okay," he says, voice soft and agreeable, words pressed against Maleko's lips. "How?"

Maleko slowly flits his hands over Aleks’ body, plainly admiring in a lazy, physical way. He gives Aleks’ lower lip a gentle suck and lingers there, humming. He’s so content, so worn out, but he still has wants and they’re all centred around Aleks. He considers.

“I’d love to taste you.”

There’s maybe the smallest, the tiniest fraction of a second’s hesitation, but Aleks nods, leaning into Maleko’s hands. It’s not real reluctance by any means, just general unsurety: Aleks’ confidence leaving him a little, like air escaping from a balloon. In explanation he offers, “I’d like that, I’m just--never, uh, sure what to do with myself, receiving? Fuck, is that weird? It’s probably weird. You don’t have to, though? You probably know that but--” Fuck. He’s rambling again. He colours; bites his tongue.

“You could still be in control,” Maleko offers with a lazy smile. “I don’t even know if I can move my legs anyway. You could ride my face, or just finish in my mouth...”

_ Fuck _ , that’s a thought, but… Aleks shakes his head. “Another time? It’s not that--uh, not a control thing exactly. I trust you. Just not, uh, used to attention, exactly?” It’s a little more complicated than that, more like  _ attention without an expected response _ , but that’ll suffice for now. “I want to, I’d like that, just. Wanted you to know. Um, how do you want me to…?” 

Positioning is confusing, especially when Aleks isn’t sure if he wants his brain to work faster or go back offline completely. It needs to pick one, though. He strokes his hands through Maleko’s hair, to distract himself; smiles a bit when he lets his gaze wander and notices a glittering daisy imprint on the inside of Maleko’s thigh.

Maleko, thank the gods, doesn’t question it right now. He just leans forward to capture another kiss, stroking Aleks’ jaw absently. Then he shifts until his shaky legs drape off the side of the bed, turning himself over until he’s able to nuzzle Aleks’ lap.

“In that case... You can put your hands in my hair? Pull, or move my head however you want?”

Aleks shivers, a slight but full-body thing. His hands  _ do _ come up to stroke through Maleko’s hair, but gently, just because he likes the texture. He probably  _ will  _ end up pulling, using it to anchor himself, but it’ll be a mindless action and hopefully weaker for it. “Yeah. Okay. Fuck, you’re really beautiful.”

“So are you,” Maleko murmurs warmly, kissing Aleks’ thigh. He’s still so weakened, coming down from being thoroughly overwhelmed, but that doesn’t impede his eagerness in the least. His tongue circles Aleks’ balls, giving them thorough attention before he moves on to swallow his cock. In one smooth motion, he takes him right to the base, his throat relaxed to accommodate his length down the narrow passage. And Aleks  _ gasps _ .

Just like that, thought stutters to a halt. It’s an effort to remember how to keep his hips still and flat against the bed, let alone why he should. One of Aleks’ hands falls away to fist in the rumpled sheets, and the one still left in Maleko’s hair trembles as it strokes through pale strands.

Maleko makes it seem easy, the way he takes Aleks deep with every bob of his head. It’s seamless, travelling back up to the tip and down again in hungry, fluid motions. He hollows his cheeks every time he draws back, and Aleks can barely tell when Maleko bothers to breathe — It doesn’t seem to be his priority, he’d  _ much _ rather be sucking Aleks off. Aleks has  _ also  _ bumped breathing to the bottom of his list of priorities, but for completely opposite reasons: the main one being that he might have actually forgotten how? His breaths are irregular and stuttering, which is almost a mercy because Aleks would probably be making some  _ really _ embarrassing noises if he had enough air for them or remembered that vocal chords existed. Pleasure is hot and molten, spiralling outwards from between his legs, and he might keen. This isn’t going to take long, and he spares his last coherent thought to stutter out something to that effect.

For an instant, Maleko pauses like he’s considering teasing. Drawing things out, tormenting Aleks just a little. The desire to see him, though, feel him and taste him and swallow him — That wins, and Maleko begins massaging his tender sack almost absentmindedly. It’s enough to make Aleks shudder again, a moan slipping past his lips unbidden. His thighs are tense and trembling and every nerve sparks like a livewire.

Everything catches up to Aleks at once, the way it tends to once he stops focussing on his partner and really lets himself  _ feel _ . It’s overwhelmingly hot, everything since they stepped through the door has been incredible and-- fuck, it was so good, to have Maleko’s cock in his throat, to have his fingers surrounded by wet heat; Maleko  _ came on his face _ , by the  _ gods _ \-- His back arches a little, without his permission. His toes might curl. 

“Fucking-- _ close _ ,” Aleks spits out, the visual of Maleko taking his cock like he was made for it the only thing keeping his eyes from slamming shut tight.

Maleko’s fingers remain light but thorough in their attentions, putting soft pressure on Aleks’ taint and rubbing circles in pace with his sucks. Maleko winds his other hand around Aleks’ hip, encouraging, asking him without words to stay in his mouth and come down his throat.

It’s impossible for Aleks to do anything but oblige, strung-out on pleasure, sensitive from denial. His head slams back against the sheets and his hips jerk up thoughtlessly and he might shout, not long or especially loud but sharp and rough-sounding. Maleko happily swallows, moaning around Aleks’ cock in satisfaction. He draws away only at the tail end of his orgasm, just to coat his tongue and thoroughly clean the slit of every drop.

Aleks bites back a moan, sensitive and shaking. His chest is heaving and he squeezes at Maleko’s shoulder, mostly ineffectually. “--Fuck. Fuck, get up here, wanna kiss you.”

“Mm.” Maleko obliges, and kisses him long and deep. He wraps himself around Aleks, entangling limbs while they breathe each other in. He’s a warm and solid weight atop Aleks, but instead of it being oppressive or caging him in, Aleks just feels held. Present. Anchored.

He lets his thoughts stray, for a minute, to the idea of Maleko maybe pinning him like this, all broad palms and firm muscle that Aleks couldn’t budge if he tried. The thought is maybe kind of...intriguing. Aleks thinks he could do that. Thinks he might want to try, maybe. One day in the future, not that far off, even. Not, of course, that that’s the  _ only _ thing he wants to try.

“Mm--Five’s a good number,” he says, very seriously, when his mouth is no longer occupied with Maleko’s (very talented) tongue. He keeps his expression very innocent when he says, “Bet we could try for six next time, though.”

Maleko starts to laugh, and he buries his face against Aleks’ collarbone. His voice is muffled when he agrees, “Six is a great number. A  _ lot _ better than two.”

“I told you, two is boring,” Aleks tells him, affably. He pauses for a second, hands stroking through Maleko’s hair, and cedes very graciously, “Probably less messy, though. For people who care about that stuff.”

Maleko laughs. “My poor sheets. Shall we shower?”

“Yeah,” Aleks agrees, and then doesn’t move even a little bit. This is nice, and, well. Like Maleko said, they have time.


End file.
